


And They Say Crime Doesn’t Pay!

by needles



Series: Bokuaka Detective drabbles [30]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29387442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needles/pseuds/needles
Summary: Bokuto's things keep going missing, he prides himself on his detection skills and they are leading him to one conclusion, but surely it cannot be right?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: Bokuaka Detective drabbles [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116251
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	And They Say Crime Doesn’t Pay!

“Akaashi I’m pretty sure I left it here, last month, after that case with the duck pond. You said you knew how to get those green slime stains out?”

“Algae.”

Bokuto raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“The slime was algae.”

He sighed. “Well is it here?”

“I don’t know?” Keiji said as convincingly as possible. “Don’t you have another?”

“No. For some reason all my Departmental T-shirts disappear, usually after I have been here or lent them to you Akaashi.”

“Are you accusing me of theft Bokuto san, because I can certainly afford to buy my own T-shirts?” _Of course they won’t smell like you._

Bokuto held up his hands. “I plead the fifth.”

“Why is it so important to find it?” Keiji asked heading to his laundry room with Bokuto in tow.

“Because I need it for the training session tomorrow.”

He checked his laundry basket without success. “Won’t they give you another one?”

“If I go and indent for another one they’re going to think I’m selling them on E-Bay. Do you know how many I’ve had this year already?”

“One or two.” Keiji headed for his bathroom closet where he kept spare linens.

Bokuto trotted behind. “Eleven Akaashi, eleven, and it’s only June.”

“Well some of them were ruined on fieldwork; they can’t blame you for that.” Keiji shook his head as another search drew a blank.

Bokuto scratched his head, stumped. “Four of them yeah, but that still leaves seven unaccounted for.”

“I’ll check my room; I might have one mixed up with mine.”

Bokuto followed him into his bedroom and Keiji started checking drawers. “Why don’t you look over there Bokuto san; unless you’d prefer to check my underwear drawers of course?” Keiji looked at him with an evil grin.

“Very funny Akaashi, you can check your own underwear drawer. I’m not that desperate for a thrill.” _‘Who the hell are you kidding Koutarou you’d give anything to get your hands on Keiji’s boxers,’_ his inner devil sneered.

Scowling he started checking Keiji’s nightstand. He pulled open the drawer. The usual assortment of pens, pins, pills _(hmm?- oh Tylenol)_ and _(oh God)_ condoms. A couple of journals, some clunky pendant that seemed to be made from some kind of seeds _(travel souvenir?)_ and a notepad. But no t-shirts. “Any luck Akaashi?”

“Not yet I’ll check the bottom drawer, try under the pillows.”

_‘The pillows?’_ Bokuto shrugged and slid his hand under the one closest to him, something cold, hard and metallic lay there. Instinctively his fingers curled around what he knew it to be and drew it forth. “Akaashi,” he said sternly.

The tone of his voice made Keiji’s look up from his crouch by the drawer.

Bokuto stood holding an extremely large gun in his hand, frowning in displeasure. “Just what is this?”

“I would have thought an ex-sniper could recognise a ...”

“I know _what_ it is Akaashi, why is it under your pillow? You told me you’d got rid of it.”

“No Bokuto san, you told me to get rid of it. I chose not to. I see no reason not to keep it.”

“You don’t need it Akaashi. I told you I’m your gun.”

Keiji pushed the drawer shut and got to his feet. “And what happens when you’re not here?” he said, folding his arms and glaring at his partner.

“I’m always here, I spend more time here than at my own apartment.”

“You don’t sleep here.” Akaashi pointed out.

_‘Damn, he just had to rub it in.’_ “Just get rid of it Akaashi,” Bokuto deflected.

“Is it because it’s bigger than yours Bokuto san?” Keiji taunted, as he took the gun from him, running his fingers along the length of the barrel in appreciation. “Does me having a larger gun emasculate you in some way?” Keiji looked up at him from under long lashes.

Bokuto growled “Size doesn’t matter, what matters is hitting what you aim at.”

“And you always do that don’t you Bokuto san?”

_‘What the hell was Akaashi playing at? Well, two can play at that game.’_ Bokuto took a step closer. “Always.”

Keiji stepped back towards the closet door. “Are you aiming now?”

Bokuto closed the gap, bracing one hand over Keiji’s shoulder against the door and removing the gun from Keiji’s unresisting hands with the other. “I’m right on target.”

“Then shoot.”

He brought his hand down and laced his fingers through Keiji’s hair, gripping Keiji’s head. “Never rush your shot Babe, gotta take it slow and steady.” He lowered his lips to Keiji’s until they were just millimetres apart. “Line it up carefully, breathe in, breathe out, and fire.” He tightened his grip in Keiji’s hair and then crushed their lips together. A moan came from somewhere deep inside Keiji and his hands wrapped themselves around Bokuto’s neck pulling him closer still. Keiji’s hips thrust away from the door and he pressed them up against Bokuto eliciting a matching groan from his throat.

Keiji dragged his swollen lips away for a second and gasped. “Bed.”

Bokuto stepped back, taking Keiji with him and as the backs of his legs touched the bed he turned them and lowered Keiji’s onto the covers. Then he laid Keiji’s gun carefully on the dresser.

“Won’t be needing that gun Keiji.” Bokuto tugged off his shirt, undid his belt buckle, shed his pants and boxers, then crawled onto the bed. Keiji’s eyes widened. 'He certainly wouldn’t'.

Later Keiji lay draped across his chest, breathing in his scent, a heady combination of cologne, sex, and pure Bokuto. He traced circles over Bokuto’s damp muscles with his fingers.  
“I have a confession Koutarou. I did steal your shirts.”

Bokuto chuckled, “I knew it. Why?”

“I wear them to bed. They smell like you; it helps me sleep. They’re in the back of my closet.”

“Why seven?”

“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday...”


End file.
